


perfect spike

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Absurd Premise, Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Plot what plot? Fluff without plot, Romance, Sweet, extreme fluff, kisses only, they both attend different universities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: University students Kageyama and Oikawa find themselves practicing (alone) in the same gym.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 12
Kudos: 172





	perfect spike

**Author's Note:**

> my apologies for typos, etc; for some reason i usually only see them after it's posted and have to correct them then.
> 
> \------------------------------------------

“What are _you_ doing here?” accuses Kageyama angrily.

Oikawa spins around, surprised. But one look at Kageyama standing, mouth open, just inside the gym door, and his body relaxes. He says, dismissively, “The gym is occupied right now. Leave.”

Kageyama holds his ground, repeating the question. “What are you doing here?” It’s a legitimate one.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa says airily. “Now turn yourself around and go back to your little kohai business.” He makes an annoying shooing motion with his hand, as though waving away a fly.

“This _is_ my business,” says Kageyama angrily. “This is _my_ gym.”

“Since when are you the ruler of this gym, Tobio-chan? I thought you voluntarily abdicated your crown. Or are you still the King of the Court?”

Kageyama flushes. The thing is, he knows Oikawa is baiting him. This is Oikawa’s specialty, after all. Kageyama has seen it in action too many times not to recognize it. Unfortunately, even with this knowledge, he can’t help responding to it with angry humiliation.

But perhaps he has made some progress, because he is also able to cling to indisputable facts. He says, through gritted teeth, “You don’t even go to this university. You have no right to be practicing here. It’s _my_ practice time.”

Oikawa lets out a long-suffering sigh. But Kageyama does have the upper hand, and Oikawa knows it. “If you _must_ know, I’m one of the instructors for the weekly volleyball seminar.”

Oh. Kageyama has seen the flyers up for that. A middle school volleyball skills class, with weekly lessons. But what does that have to do with Oikawa being here on a weekend? By himself? Clearly practicing?

Oikawa can obviously sense his confusion because he adds, “In lieu of monetary compensation, I asked for permission to use the gym on the off-hours.”

“But – why?” asks Kagayama, still puzzled.

Oikawa colors slightly and turns away.

Kageyama is surprised that he deigns to answer. 

“Because I have a few things I want to work on… alone.”

Ah. Kageyama understands _this_ well enough.

“Someone’s after your starting spot?”

“Someone’s always after my starting spot,” grumbles Oikawa.

It’s true. There are far more volleyball players than starting positions on the university teams, and the players are always in danger of being unseated by new talent. In fact, that’s one of the reasons Kageyama himself is here practicing. It’s a relief to be able to work on his weaknesses without watchful, judging eyes observing him.

“Please leave,” says Oikawa, “I’m allowed another-“ he glances up at the clock “hour and a half here.”

“I’m not leaving. This isn’t your gym. I, also, have permission to practice here on the off hours.”

“But I was here first, Tobio-chan.” For the first time, it sounds whiny.

“So?” Kageyama replies, unimpressed.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, and he glares.

Kageyama doesn’t back down.

There is a long moment of silence, then Oikawa says, “Fine, stupid-face. This is my side, and that’s your side." He adds, in warning, "You stay on your side."

Or what? Kageyama wonders. Oikawa will glare at him again? For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t feel threatened by Oikawa. Kageyama has a perfect right to be here, and, if anything, Oikawa is the intruder.

But, the clock is ticking, so Kagayama quickly warms up and starts practicing his serve. He can hear Oikawa’s grunts and the thwack of his hand hitting the ball, but he steadfastedly keeps his eyes on his side of the court. While it’s true that he feels equal to the task of standing up to Oikawa for the moment, he doesn’t want to waste further time in confrontation. He needs to use every second of this precious practice time to the fullest.

After about twenty minutes, Kageyama is thinking longingly of how he also wants to work on both his spikes and his receives. And with such a formidable player literally at his side…

He waits until Oikawa is collecting the balls from his serves, then clears his throat. “Since we’re both here, do you wa-“

“No,” says Oikawa.

Kageyama blushes. He didn’t even have a chance to get it all out.

Oikawa looks back at him coolly, volleyball on his hip, eyes dark. His skin is gleaming with sweat. He looks every bit the ruthless competitor he is.

Kageyama bows and says, “Oikawa-san.”

“Absolutely not,” says Oikawa. He mutters under his breath, “As if I’d expend any energy trying to help _you_ improve.”

Kageyama runs in front of Oikawa, blocking him. He bows again, “Oi-Oikawa-san. Please. Listen to me!”

A surprised Oikawa is halted in his tracks.

“It would benefit both of us to practice spikes and receives,” he says, as convincingly as he can.

“ _I_ don’t need the practice,” says Oikawa haughtily.

“Then why are you here?” asks Kageyama, as he rises from the bow.

Oikawa’s face colors.

“Okay, fine!” says Oikawa angrily. “I’ll toss to you first.”

It turns out to be both helpful and enjoyable. Oikawa’s tosses are superb, just as they have always been. Within about five minutes, he’s figured out where Kageyama can optimally spike, and he sends each toss there with almost Kageyama-like precision.

Kageyama can’t help grinning at him in appreciation, and he thinks he sees an answering grin flicker briefly over Oikawa’s face in return.

But, “Not bad, Tobio-chan,” is all Oikawa says.

Then they switch, and Kageyama tosses to Oikawa.

Oikawa’s spikes are incredible, and Kageyama studies Oikawa’s form as best he can, trying to figure out the ways in which it is more effective than his own.

They both are focused so much on the volleyball, that the atmosphere between them relaxes to the point where Kageyama almost forgets that he’s practicing with a sworn enemy.

“Can you try tossing to me two inches higher?” Oikawa asks casually at one point.

Kageyama does, tossing exactly where Oikawa wants. Kageyama can see Oikawa’s gleam of pleasure as he tries to lift himself up even higher to get the tosses.

He misses the first few, but eventually starts to hit them.

It’s impressive, as always, how Oikawa is always reaching, trying to improve, eager to be better.

Much like Kageyama himself, if he thinks about it.

At the end of their allotted time, Oikawa looks straight at Kagyama, and says only a brief, “Thank you," but Kageyama can tell it’s heartfelt. The words give him an unexpectedly happy feeling inside. It was a great practice for both of them, Kagayama is certain, and far better than it would have been for either one alone.

They carefully disassemble and stow the net, then get to work collecting stray volleyballs.

Oikawa is rearranging the volleyballs in the cart so none of them will spill out when he moves it back into the storage closet. His back is to Kageyama, and he is focused on the task at hand.

Kageyama finds his gaze lingering on the broad, well-defined back. Oikawa is taller than Kageyama, and he is lean and strong-looking. The only soft thing about him is his hair, still fluffy despite the sweat. Kageyama is strangely fascinated with this effervescent mop, and finds himself shuffling closer, reaching out, wanting to…. touch.

His finger lands gently on the top of Oikawa’s head and trails down to the nape of his neck.

Oikawa stiffens, and the finger recoils, as if burned.

When Oikawa spins around, however, it is hanging incriminatingly in the air between them – Kageyama has most certainly been caught in the act. Even through his fear, Kageyama can’t bring himself to regret it. Oikawa’s hair was lovely under his finger, soft and silky, with the reassuring solidity of Oikawa’s hard, obstinate head right beneath it. 

They stand for a long minute, staring at one another.

Oikawa’s brow furrows; a questioning look appears on his face. He must be able to read some kind of answer in Kageyama’s, though, because the next thing he does is step forward, forcing Kageyama to further withdraw his hand.

Oikawa places his own hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.

It’s Kageyama’s turn to frown, even though Oikawa’s touch is light and non-threatening. The question is still there in Oikawa's face, and he's moving in slowly, giving Kageyama plenty of opportunity to stop him if he wants.

And then – and then, Oikawa’s lips are on his.

Kageayama lets out a startled gasp. Oikawa instantly freezes, then starts to back off. Kageyama, suddenly desperate to keep him there, grabs his arms, holding him in place. 

Kageyama can feel Oikawa’s smile against his mouth.

Oikawa does something then, tilts his head, moves his lips in a certain way, and Kageyama doesn’t know quite what it is, because this is his first proper kiss – who has time for kissing when there is always, _always,_ volleyball?- but it pulls them closer together, and makes the kiss so much better.

Kageyama sinks into the sensation of Oikawa’s strong, sure body flush against his. It is as firm as he might have imagined it to be, if he had ever considered the possibility that such a thing as kissing might occur, but also soft, pliant, open to Kageyama in a way that Oikawa has never, ever, ever been before to him.

Kageyama can’t help letting out a low moan at the deliciousness of it, and Oikawa takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Kageyama’s mouth. 

And then they are well and truly making out, with deep, wet, heavy kisses, Kageyama’s hands sliding up Oikawa’s arms to tangle in that fantastic hair, Oikawa’s arms winding around Kageyama’s waist. The entire experience is incredible, almost overwhelming to Kageyama. It is different from volleyball, of course, but with a flicker of the same, thrilling physical excitement.

It is starting to feel like it will never end, like this kissing is going to last well into the night, when the gym door creaks open. The familiar noise breaks through the spell they are under, and they spring wildly apart.

It is the security guard, here to lock up. Kagayema can feel the heat rise in his face. Did the man see them? He glances over. Oikawa is sweaty, disheveled, and also red-faced. But no different than any athlete after a hard practice, right? Maybe the guard didn’t notice? Kageyama clears his throat, readying himself to stutter out an explanation.

Oikawa’s smooth voice, only slightly breathless, beats him to it. “Our apologies, sir. We lost track of the time. We’ll just put this bin away and be out of the gym.”

He starts to push the heavy cart towards the closet, Kageyama hurriedly moving next to him to help.

Kageyama can’t keep his eyes from flicking to Oikawa’s arms, the muscles playing under the smooth flesh.

Kageyama has touched those arms! He knows what they feel like, now, both to caress, and wrapped around his own body.

As they’re walking, Oikawa says, quietly, without looking at Kageyama, “You’ll be back tomorrow?”

“Yes!” Kageyama practically shouts, trying unsuccessfully to mute the excitement welling up in him. “At 6.” Is Oikawa going to suggest…?

They’re in the closet now, tucking the bin up against the wall where it belongs.

“I could join you?” Oikawa asks with uncharacteristic diffidence. “To work on receives?”

Kageyama blushes. Oikawa _is_! He, also, wants to meet again! He, also, wants more of the… kissing. At the thought, Kageyama becomes completely tongue-tied. Luckily, he is able to nod vigorously.

Oikawa smiles at this. He leans in, and, gently taking hold of Kageyama’s chin, pulls him close for another kiss. It’s a soft, brief one. At the last second, his tongue flicks lightly over Kagayama’s lips.

When Oikawa starts to withdraw, Kageyama can’t help clutching at his shirt, following him, leaning in for more contact. He doesn’t want it to be over.

Oikawa, however, takes a definitive step back, ending the kiss.

“Well then, Tobio-chan,” he whispers, with a lazy, impish grin. “I look forward to it.”

Once out of the gym, they separate, each heading his own way. Until Oikawa turns around and calls out, “Yoo-hoo, Tobio-chan! Do you want to get dinner afterwards? Tomorrow?”

“Yes!” Kageyama yells back immediately and far too loudly, his voice reverberating along the empty sidewalk.

Oikawa smiles again and flashes a peace sign, then turns around, walking steadily away from him.

Kageyama can’t keep the exultant smile from spreading across his own face, his fist from clenching in victory. The thrill is as great as if he had just landed a perfect spike.


End file.
